Blood on the Ice
by Rachel-Jane Kensington
Summary: MIRACLE. They were all hired by Coach Brooks to do a job. What can they do though when slowly, but surely, their emotions begin to spill out onto the ice. MacOFCJack, RizzoOFC.
1. Hitler With Boobs

A/n: Hey-o! Who doesn't love a good Miracle fic? Haha. Just a few fair warnings:

1) I throw nicknames around a lot. Now, I know most of you are so in love with this team that you know all their names and faces and positions and just everything lol. But I just wanted to be fair about the fact that you have to be very familiar with the team to follow the story sometimes.

2) There's racism, sexism and sigh yes, cheating. Drama ahoy lol

Now sit back and enjoy! I love these boys so much and I really hope it shows. Cheers and happy reading!

- Rachel

Disclaimer: I no not own, nor do I claim to own anything associated with the Olympics, mentioned hockey players or the Miracle Franchise. All rights reserved to the Olympic Committe, the players themselves and Disney.

**Blood on the Ice**

**Chapter One: Hitler With Boobs**

She moved silently across the ice, stringing noiseless figure eights out over the surface almost as though it were water. Distracted, I set my clipboard down and stared at her in awe, studying her turns with intent concentration.

"Amazing isn't it?" Coach Brooks gave me the tiniest hint of a smile. I returned his look for a moment before going back to gawking. "Taylor Roberts. Five time junior league solo champion."

"How is she **doing** that?" I asked, breathlessly as she performed a double axle in the air and landed stealthily, picking up where she left off in her last figure eight. Herb looked down at me, fully smirking now.

"That's what we brought her here to find out." Picking up his marker and clipboard, he went out onto the ice towards her. A frown creased my forehead as I watched the brunette skater come to a stop I front of Herb, putting out her hand for him to shake. My mom had been a skater and my father had been involved with hockey his entire life, I knew talent when I saw it. So why had I never even heard of this girl? Why was she here, at a hockey practice of all places, and not practicing for the Olympics.

"Who is that?" I hadn't realized the boys had come out from the locker rooms until Mikey was suddenly standing beside me, murmuring as he stared, transfixed as I had been.

"Taylor Roberts, according to Coach." I offered. The boys all exchanged looks. "I dunno, she's fresh out of junior league I think 'cause I've never heard of her."

"I have." Silky nodded, staring at her as well. "She skated with my sistah in the junyah leagues, figure singles. Damn good, real creative. Beat Mahgret in every event."

"So what's she doin' _heah_?" Riz looked over at Silky, who offered only a shrug.

"Beats me Rizzo."

"Alright, well, as fascinating as it is to stand here and watch Herb talk to some girl on our ice, it's not exactly why I got suited up. Can we play some hockey please? Today, maybe?"

And that cocky, borderline obnoxious voice would be, who else, but O.C. Unable to help the grin that spread over my face I shook my head and waved the boys out into the rink.

"Alright, let's get our stretch on fellas. Come on, get in three lines for me, there ya go. Alright first I want you in a parade rest…alright, now lean forward so both your palms are on the ice." A chorus of groans echoed from behind me. Chuckling to myself, I kept instructing, "Don't lock those knees up boys, but don't bend them either. Keep those spines straight. Good, now right ankle…." Closing my eyes, I could faintly hear Coach Brooks' thick Minnesota accent as he spoke to Taylor. I had to admit, I was a little self conscious stretching the boys out in front of her. "Left ankle." I called out, absently, wondering if she was paying attention to our routine and if she was, what she thought of it.

Slowly, I stood up straight and turned to face the boys as they did the same, continuing to groan.

"Everyone ready for lunges?"

More sounds of disapproval followed. Once suited up, the boys hated having to stretch. They were ready to play, they just wanted to have at the ice.

"Or we could just get to work without stretching, how about that? I know I've got pulling a few ligaments at the top of _my_ to-do list, what about you guys?" Before I'd even noticed her move away from Herb, Taylor had skated up beside me in that eerily silent fashion of hers and was staring the team down. Close up I could see her clearly defined features, as intimidating as they were beautiful. She definitely looked the part of a girl who could make a living on the ice.

The boys all exchanged confused glances at her first words to them.

"I didn't think so. After today, gentlemen, you will _beg_ to stretch. So, enjoy it while you can. You have…8 minutes. Hurry up." With that, she skated over to the benches to join the coaches and Doc.

With a smirk tugging at my mouth, I continued. No more complaining ensued after Taylor's rueful pep talk and we got done pretty quickly, much to the chagrin of the team.

"Alright, good work boys. I'll see you again in a few hours."

"Aw, Niki, yah not actually gunna _leave_ us with her, ah you?" O.C. asked melodramatically as I started to skate off the ice.

"I'm with Jack on this one. She's kinda scary." Johnson admitted.

"Kinda reminds me of Herb." Ralph Cox smirked.

"Chya, if Herb was a total hottie." Verchota cracked, and the other boys laughed heartily with him.

"Guys, come on. She's a _figure_ skater. How bad could it be?" Mac shrugged as he secured the strap on his helmet. Snickering, the guys continued to stand around me, like I was actually going to stay.

"What do you want me to do? Hold your hand? This isn't the first day of Kindergarten boys, get over it."

"Lotta maternal instinct you got there, Nik." Craig smiled at me as he fixed his goalie mask in place. Giving him a playful shove, I laughed.

"Get out of here! You guys are so pathetic, you know that." A few of them gave me looks like that comment had truly hurt their egos. Rolling my eyes, I skated away. "If you disagree, let's see you prove me wrong!"

Entering the benches, I took a seat and began untying my laces so I could get to work.

"Taylor Roberts. I'm here to help the boys work on their skating." Suddenly a hand was in my face and it was obvious who it belonged to. Looking up, I offered my own hand and the two met in the middle to shake.

"Nikita Chekhol. I work with Doc, sort of his assistant."

She nodded, smiling ever so slightly.

"Awesome. Could you do me a really big favor?" The slightest hint of a southern accent came out in her speech and I couldn't help but smirk.

"Um, sure." I replied, hoping I hadn't just agreed to something I would regret.

"Could you take a few notes today on how the guys do with me. I need to be able to track their progress, you know?"

"Oh, yah, no problem. I can do that."

"Perfect! I really appreciate it. I'll see you after practice?"

"Yah, definitely."

"Alright, cool. See ya 'round." And with that she skated off with the kind of elegant grace that inspired artists.

Shaking my head in wonderment, I finished taking off my white skates and started to slip on and tie my regular sneakers, which gave me the perfect opportunity to watch as Taylor introduced herself to the boys. After she'd intimated them it was pretty hilarious to watch, especially after she'd just been a total sweetheart to _me_. In a brief moment of internal amusement, I wondered if she was a feminist, or possibly a lesbian. Then, as I caught the looks on the boys' faces, I sincerely hoped for the entire team's sake that she wasn't. I wasn't sure I could deal with that level of disappointment from 26 hockey players for seven whole months.

"My name is Taylor Roberts. I've been skating my entire life, just like a lot of y'all. Except, I was actually trained to skate, whereas you guys've been screamed at for years to do little more than run on blades. That's why your coach asked me to come in Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays to help you polish up on your skating."

For the second time that morning she got to hear a barrage of complaining moans.

"Hey, hey!" Shouting over their whining, she was able to quiet them down a little. "I did _not_ come here to play around with you boys. I came here to do a job that I was hired by your coach to do. Are you going to let me do it, or not?"

"None of us need to be taught how to skate better." Ramsey piped up, an aggressive edge to his voice.

"Yah, least of all by a girl." Someone else snidely added on.

"Obviously, your coach doesn't see it that way." Taylor retorted, dryly.

"We made it this far didn't we? I mean, we're here right?"

"So am I." None of them really had a good response. "Right now you guys're fast, I'll give you that. And you're strong in balance, too. I've seen your tapes, I'm impressed there. But skating is not about who can skate the fastest, or stay up the longest. It's about agility and strength and power. Otherwise you might as well just be racing."

Skating off towards the side of the rink, she continued shouting to them as she reached around the glass and grabbed a stack of cones.

"Now that introductions are out of the way, the first thing I want to do is see how agile y'all are." she told them, setting up the cones down the middle of the rink along the red line, with a good yard between each of them. "Line up along the wall. I want you to skate from there to the scorekeeper's box, _silently_. Dig your skates into the ice once and you'll get ten laps around the rink. Do it again and you'll get twenty. Understood?"

As they lined up against the glass, the boys all exchanged looks. I could hear them whispering about how crazy this chick was, the words 'Nazi' and 'Hitler with boobs' being thrown around in good humor. I tried not to laugh, but it was hard when, eventually, every single guy ended up failing her first test and being handed a ten-lap punishment in exchange. Some got twenty for giving their surrogate coach attitude about it, which only added to my amusement. Not to mention my awe.

I loved these boys, and I had a very high level of respect for each and every one of them. Likewise, I knew they had a semi-healthy level of respect for me. But at the end of the day, I was a girl and this? This was hockey, a man's sport in all regards. I didn't have authority on this rink and I accepted that without much question. And it's not that it bothered me, I just wished they'd take me a little more seriously sometimes. I never pushed them to it though, never wrung the respect out of them, just sort of gave them the option and left it at that.

What I was most in awe of about Taylor, was that she _didn't_ leave it at that. She knew she had just as much of a right to skate on that ice as they did and no amount of attitude from them was going to change that. She pushed them and pushed them, never relenting and never taking no for an answer. And as much as they disliked it, at the end of the day they were still following her direction.

"Alright boys, bring it in." Skating to a stop in front of the group, Taylor watched them panting as she stood up straight, intimidatingly poised and seemingly untouched by the two hours of intense training she'd just gone through with them. "Now don't get me wrong, we have a lot to work on, but you did alright today. I think we can get you where you need to be without much of a problem. You do your job and I'll do mine. Have a good stretch boys, see you Wednesday." And with a precocious little wave of her fingers, she skated off the ice.

Picking up my clipboard, I went back out onto the ice and gave Taylor my notes, along with a highly amused smile, as we passed each other.

"Thanks sweetheart, they're all yours." And with a wink, she was headed off to the locker rooms to take off her skates and study what I'd given her. My smile was erased however when, the moment she was out of earshot, I was berated by a twenty-six outraged voices.

"Who the hell does she think she is?"

"Is she nuts?!"

"This isn't fucking figure skating, this is hockey!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" I shouted, a frown creasing my forehead. Slowly, they started quieting down. "Guys! Get a grip! She's here to help you!"

"We don't have time for this, the opening ceremonies are months away and we've only been training together two weeks!" Mac barked at me.

"This _is_ training." I insisted.

"This is figure skating. Nikita, we're hockey players." Johnson argued back.

"Maybe you hadn't noticed but hockey is played on skates too." I reminded them dryly. Half of them rolled their eyes.

"Look, the bottom line is: We know how to skate already. We don't need some little ice princess telling us how to do ah jobs. We got _this_ fah didn't we?" Silky explained, Massachusetts accent flaring in the wake of his anger.

"This far isn't good enough." Taking a deep breath, I ran a hand through my hair and tried to think of a better way to explain this. "Look, I guarantee you the Soviets aren't just working on their plays or building offensive lines. They already have those down. They're working on two things: stamina and agility. So, that's what we're going to work on too. If you can't handle that gentlemen, well then I suggest you find a new team to play for because this one doesn't want you. Now, are we ready to stretch?" For the first time, all of them went into lunges without a _word_ of disapproval.

Back in the locker rooms a few of the boys wanted ice for their shins and ankles and, of course, came to me for it.

"What do you need ice for?" I smirked when Suter came first, a line of boys behind him, asking for ice. "It was just a little, girly figure skating, right boys?"

"Real cute Nik. You know we're not used to skating like that, okay? Come on." Silky leaned around Suter, a hand on his hip and an attitude on his lip. I took a deep breath and went to get them their ice.

"Alright, alright." I smirked, shaking my head and lifting my hands in defeat. "Just don't let me catch you callin' her an ice princess again, deal?"

"Don't wanna make you any promises we can't keep, now do we?" O.C. gave me a playful smile as he walked past me towards the showers. I swear, seeing these boys walk around shirtless really never got old.

"I'm sure that's your first priority Jack, as always." I returned his playful stare over my shoulder.

"I'd say it's his second." Rizzo flashed his adorable-as-ever smile as I handed him a pack, "Right after making sure little Jackie goes to bed happy." The entire locker room erupted with laughter, even from my end. The two walked off into the showers, Jack making a few lucid comments about "little Mikey" in his defense. Mac came up to me next, continuing to chuckle from the joke.

"Hey Rob." I flashed him a smile, still as amused as he was.

"Hey." He grinned back and I felt my blood get a little warmer. The boy had one of the most dazzling smiles I'd ever seen in my life. Not heartwarming like Rizzo's, not reassuring like Jimmy's, not even boyishly irresistible like Jack's. Just…dazzling. The puppy dog eyes shrouded in dark bangs didn't hurt either.

"How's that shoulder?" I asked, making his baggy for him and tying it a little slower than I'd done up the rest. He rotated it backwards a few times, feeling it out.

"Better after you helped me stretch it, thanks." he stepped to the side after I handed him his ice but stayed there, continuing to talk to me.

"No problem." I smiled softly, first at him and then Bah, who had been behind him.

"I think I've got a knot developing under my left shoulder blade though. Would you mind looking at it a little later?"

I really shouldn't have been as happy as I was over helping him with his back problems. But…I was.

"Yah, no problem. Just let me get this taken care of, then after I talk to Coach Brooks for a minute I'm all yours."

"Can't wait." Another flash of that winning smile and he'd disappeared behind the few boys remaining. My smile however, did anything but disappear.

After I got the rest of the ice out I took the cooler back to Doc, then went to Coach Brooks' office as I was supposed to, to give him a full report of injuries. There wasn't much to report today, other than whining and bruised egos. Smiling at how ridiculous boys could be, I shook my head, not paying attention to where I was going until I heard a voice from someone leaving Herb's office.

"Hey there." It was Taylor. I smiled at her as both of us slowed to a stop.

"You worked my boys pretty hard today." She just laughed lightly.

"They needed it." A shrug left her shoulders. "In more ways than one."

"Oh, I agree. All of them have it in their heads that they're ridiculously good skaters just because they made it onto this team. None of them realize that good hockey playing and good skating do not come as a package deal."

An impressed smirk crossed her face.

"Sounds like you do, though."

I shrugged, "I grew up around the ice. I mean didn't you hear my name? My dad's Russian, he's always been involved with hockey. And then, my mom was a pro skater. I know ability when I see it. And it's not that the boys are _bad_ skaters, they just have a lot to work on."

"Tell me about it." She rolled her eyes and we both laughed.

"Well, I think you can definitely help them. I saw you skating earlier, I was very impressed."

Her smile grew wide, "Thanks, I try. I have to go though, so I'll see you Wednesday?"

"Definitely. It was nice to meet you Taylor."

"Yah, you too. I'll see ya."

Still smiling, I entered Coach Brooks' office, taking a seat after being waved in by a phone-attached Herb.

"I know Walter, I got the message…Well, make room in the budget, we need her…Alright, alright, bye." Hanging up, he adjusted his glasses and turned to me. "Hey there Nikida, thanks for comin' in."

I tried to fight the small smile that fought for territory on my mouth when his Minnesota accent hit my ears. I was used to Northeastern accents, having been raised in the North Shore of Massachusetts, and only ever found comfort and fondness in them. But the way the Midwest made half the guys here shape their words was just plain amusing to me, so foreign was it to my ears.

"No problem, what did you need to see me about?"

He looked me square in the eyes and took a deep breath.

"As the only woman on my staff, and as a skater with a very impressive pedigree, I'm interested in your opinion of Ms. Roberts. The Olympic Committee is breathing down my neck about having 'er here and I can't afford ta keep 'er here if we don't need 'er." He explained with classic bluntness.

Nodding, I thought about his question for mere seconds before giving him a response.

"I think we need her." I told him simply. "These boys are good, don't get me wrong, but let's be honest. We're going up against the best teams in the world, not the best teams in the country. They can use all the help they can get."

"And she's it, huh?" He asked, looking down at a photo of what I'm sure was Taylor, probably on the ice, all business.

"She's got what it takes Coach. I mean, I can just feel it rolling off of her in waves, she's got this passion that the boys definitely need to be around as much as possible."

"Alright." He gave me a curt nod. "That's all, you can go."

* * *

So? What'd you think? Romantic progress is gunna be slow, since there's a lot going on for everyone, but it'll be thorough if nothing else. Now go on and review!


	2. Scheming for Peace

**Chapter Two: Scheming for Peace**

_Two weeks later_

"Alright, today we're gunna be working on starting and acceleration. Of course, gathering speed down the lane is important but if you can break out of the gate just as fast, you'll take your opponent completely by surprise. My hope is that within a few weeks you'll be going from zero to sixty faster than a pack of Porsches. Now, lets get on the red line and practice starting frontal style."

Tilting his hip to the side Jani raised a gloved hand.

"Yes?" Taylor drawled, clearly annoyed that someone was holding her up.

"Do the goalies have to do this too? Because I mean really, when are we gunna"-

"Cute question." She cut him off with a friendly smile, before going deadpan. "But I don't care if you're left, right, center, defense, or goalie. I want you on that red line or it's laps. And if you think _I'm_ a tough crowd, just wait until I hand in my report to Coach Brooks."

On the sidelines, Coach Patrick and I were supervising practice as I took notes on the progress of the boys for Taylor, while working through a stack of the team's medical profiles Doc had asked me to check. Craig was taking notes of his own, probably for his weekly reports to Coach Brooks, and wearing a smirk as he watched Taylor with growing amusement.

"She's somethin' else, isn't she?" He nodded his head upwards in her direction to assert his meaning and when I caught the end of his stare I just laughed lightly.

"She sure is. I've never met a girl so comfortable being that assertive in a setting like this. It's amazing."

"Not to mention hilarious. The looks on these guys' faces." he laughed to himself, "Priceless."

"It's good for their egos though." I shrugged.

"What, being told they could learn a thing or two from a female figure skater?" Craig made a sound of obvious agreement in the back of his throat. "I'll say. You're right though, they need this."

"You don't think we're pushing them too hard though? Two hours of this after practice every other day? I dunno, a part of me feels bad."

"Well, that's only because you have to deal with them _after_ she leaves. I'm sure Herb knows what he's doing…"

Coach Patrick and I exchanged looks before laughing softly.

"You might wanna work on that poker face, Craig." I smirked, looking back at my paperwork.

"I'll keep that in mind, Nikta."

Frontal start, skate to the red line, clean stop.

Forward crossover start, skate to the far red line, clean stop.

Backwards start, middle red line, clean stop.

Backwards crossover, far red line, clean stop.

Within two hours the boys were skating perfect drills, and all the coaching staff could do was stare in awe. To help the boys attain such precise start/stop skills, Taylor had drilled the team thoroughly on starting, stopping, and transitional moves. And though it had looked messy during practice, like it would accomplish little in the long run and was merely a frustrating waste of time, the payoff was starting to come clearer into focus. Their skating was beginning to look intimidatingly explosive and yet beautifully controlled at the same time. And I wasn't the only one impressed. Beside me Coach Brooks had the faintest hint of a smile on his face as he took in the sight Craig had pulled him out of his office especially to see.

"Looks like you have a good eye for talent." He cocked an eyebrow at me for a moment before moving out onto the ice and blowing his whistle. As he glided closer, the boys completed their last run, coming to the line with exhaustion dragging down their frames. "Get some water boys."

Herb discussed his enthusiasm about what she was doing, dually noting everything she had fixed as well as everything that still needed fixing, as the boys came over panting and sweating. The water bottles I was passing out were torn from my hands faster than I could pick them up, such was their desperation. But all I could do was smile.

"That was really amazing, watching what she did with you guys." I told them, still awed. Half of them grimaced at me like I had lost my mind.

"Where've you been hidin' that sadistic streak all this time?" O.C. cocked an eyebrow after spitting his water out, too busy trying to breathe to even consider swallowing properly. I gave him a sarcastic smile, rolling my eyes.

"Up your ass apparently." I countered, eliciting a few sounds of amusement from the rest of the boys. As I waved the boys back into formation on the rink to stretch, I caught Jack's trademark smirk.

"Ya welcome ta check later." He threw back and I shook my head, letting out a deep breath. As I turned my back to them, I sincerely hoped he hadn't caught the smile my amusement had thrown over my mouth at his comment. None of these guys needed that kind of encouragement, least of all O.C.

"Parade rest!" I shouted with slightly more edge than usual.

* * *

Over the past two weeks we'd gotten into a pretty solid routine. Taylor's practice ended, the boys all but ran to stretch, and then I got to listen to the left over anger burning up and boiling over inside of them as I looked over their strains and iced their bruises. Today was worse than usual since practice had started a little early and run slightly late. Not to mention, the drills Taylor had had them run proved to be the most intense yet. So, suffice it to say, relief blossomed inside me when the least intimidating of all our players waltzed into the medical wing of the locker room at the end of the day.

"Hey Mike!" Offering him a wide smile as I wiped the leather examination table off with a paper towel soaked in alcohol.

"Hey." He returned my smile and hopped up on the table once I was finished. "How ah ya?" he asked, making light conversation as I washed my hands. Silky had just left before Rizzo walked in and my hands were still sweaty from having to work a knot out of his lower back. Not that I really minded...

"I think the question is, how are _you_? What's got you up on my table today sweetheart?" I couldn't help but throw endearments around with Mike. We hadn't exactly grown up together, but he had attended the same preparatory high school as me on hockey scholarship and we'd been really close throughout the four most awkward years of our lives.

Leaning back on his elbows, he lifted his knee and suddenly I found myself face-to-face with his left foot. When people told me working for a U.S. Olympic team would be glamorous this _had_ to be what they had meant. I was sure of it.

"Ah'm findin' it hahd to balance on this foot, it feels like a nurve in the ahch is shot or somethin', Ah'm not sure." Noting the grimace on his face when I stretched his foot towards his ankle, my mind began to flip through the possibilities. In my head I could clearly picture Riz as he performed every feat asked of him that day by both Coach Brooks and Taylor. Recalling what I'd noted of him at practice, a realization dawned on me.

"You know," I started, testing pressure points in different areas of his foot to make sure there wasn't any nerve damage, "I just realized something."

"And that is?"

"You're the only one I have yet to hear moaning and groaning about Coach Roberts."

"Yoh the first person I've heard refeh to her as Coach." He smirked back in retort. I just rolled my eyes, gently letting his foot down as I went in search of an ace bandage.

"Exactly my point. None of the guys here seem to want to show her any respect…except you."

He shrugged, sitting up as I reached up into the nearby freezer and pulled out a rolled up bandage. Doc had laughed when I'd stuck half of them in there on my first day, but the boys seemed to think it was genius, loving the cooling sensation it provided to their burning muscles.

"You know me, Nik, it takes a lot to ruffle my feathahs."

Smiling, I came back over, dragging a stool with me before sitting down and propping his foot up on my thigh so I could wrap it.

"And for that I love you, Michael Eruzione. I just wish the guys would follow your lead." I sighed, frowning down at his foot.

"Ah, they'll come around. Yah just gotta give 'em time." You had to give him credit for his optimistic faith. "You know how hockey playas can be."

"Unfortunately I do." Accompanying my nod with a playful smirk so he would know I was kidding, I patted his shin. "Alright, you're all set. Far as I can tell, all you did was strain a nerve today. You're probably just getting used to skating harder and longer, you know? It should pass, but if it gets worse we might have to get u some arch support so you're not screwing up your balance. Shouldn't get any messier than that though." I assured him. He smiled and hopped off the counter.

"Damn, and here I was hopin' it'd be enough ta get me outta practice with Coach Robahts."

We shared a laugh and I playfully shoved him towards the locker room.

"Get outta here. Shouldn't you be on a date with Mac or something? I hear you two are getting awfully close."

Rizzo's smile dimmed, seeming to lose a few volts of electricity.

"O.C. told you about that, huh?"

Silently, I nodded. After high school, Mike had left my side in favor of another scholarship, this time offered from Boston University. Playing for the U, he met Jack and Silky, all three of them becoming close. So it was understandable that Jack would be so upset about Mike getting chummy with Mac, who seemed to embody everything about Minnesota that made it Boston's most hated hockey rival.

A sigh left Rizzo's mouth.

"Like I said, we just gotta give everyone some time, ya know? We can't expect things to change ovahnight. It'll be okay though, they'll change they're minds." The mischievous smile on his face told me if he had any part in the matter, Mac and OC would be BFF by the end of this.

"Uh oh, I know that look." I teased him, beginning to clean up my things. It was starting to get late and I was pretty sure anyone who needed to see me would have stuck their head in by then. "What have you got planned Mikey?"

"You make it sound so contrived. Like we're schemin' around or somethin'."

"You're not?" I challenged, laughing a little.

"We'ah…helping." He decided, a pseudo innocent look on his face. Not even bothering to look up, I snorted.

"Whatever you say…schemer."

A hearty laugh sprang from his throat and his smile was back, fully charged once again.

"Alright fine, be that way. I was gunna invite you to dinner with the boys, but hey- don't want ta get you involved in my scheming ways."

My eyes went wide and I gave him a pleading look.

"What? No! I'm not in on the scheming, so it doesn't count!"

"I dunno, I mean, I'd hate ta give you a guilty conscience." He teased me, putting on a fake mask of sadness.

"No guilt over here. I promise." Just to secure the deal, I held up my right hand in oath. Pretending to think for a moment, we both just stared at each other until the laughter burst out from our mouths.

"Of course you can come!" He chuckled, "Hurry up and get ya stuff. I'll meet you out front."

Aaand cut! :D Well, what do ya think? I'm gunna try and start working some more Bah, Silky and Magic in here. I love those three haha. If there's anything you'd like to see as far as them (or OC, Mac and Rizzo) (Or Jimmy, Buzzy, Rammer...anyone on the team actually haha) just let me know ;) Happy reading and please review! Also, thanks to rejazz for reviewing ch.1!


	3. Beer and Pizza

**Chapter Three: Beer and Pizza**

No matter how hard I tried, my stomach refused to settle down as I cleaned up for the night and got my things together.

'_Dinner with the boys.' _

Over and over I replayed Rizzo's words in my head. What did that mean, exactly? Who were the boys? The Boston boys, Silky, Jack and Ralph? Or was Mike's list of friends already officially expanded to include Mac? After all, they were getting chummy. And Rizzo was a very friendly person. If he had things his way, he'd be inviting the Russian squad over for dinner parties.

Checking to make sure the locker rooms were empty, I shut off all the lights and made my way into the hall and began walking towards the double doors near the end that would lead me into the parking lot. The closer my feet took me to those doors, the harder I could feel my pulse pounding.

Sure, I was on good terms with all the boys. After a month of getting up close and personal with their injuries every week day and occasionally spotting them in the gym on weekends, they were really comfortable with me and the feeling was mutual. But the idea of letting that comfort spill out beyond the Bloomington Ice Rink and Fitness Center was foreign. I came to work, I worked with them, I went home. End of story. The only person I'd hung out with a few times had been Mike, but that had only been to help him move into his apartment here in Minnesota and because we were already such good friends. I just hoped the other guys, namely whoever was going to be at dinner, would be as accepting as Mike.

My hand pushed down on the cool metal of the hallway doors and I had broken free into the windy, dark parking lot.

"Hey!"

I jumped when a voice I didn't realize was familiar at first caught me off guard.

"Oh, hey Mac!" Laying a hand on my chest as I caught my breath, a smile spread over my face. He chuckled, reaching out a hand and taking my duffel bag for me.

"Did I startle you?" He began walking towards the middle of the parking lot and I followed. Only five cars remained among the orange streetlights of the lot, two of which were easily identified as belonging to the coaches.

"Well, with that face I mean, how can you blame me?" I teased. He nodded, a mixed look of amusement and hurt crossing his face.

"Oh, I see how it is. I carry your bags for you and you make fun of me. I get it, that's cool."

"Is it at all possible that I might have been kidding?" I countered, inwardly very impressed with myself for speaking with him in such a cool, unbothered tone of voice.

"Nope, nope, it's cool, I can handle the truth." He played along, holding up a hand as though to signal that there was no need for excuses. Laughing helplessly, I pushed his hand away, trying to make sure he understood I was only kidding around. When our hands connected however, I hadn't anticipated that our fingers would intertwine slightly, falling into each other on accident.

Our steps faltered for a moment and I felt my heart jerk painfully in my chest when we both looked up, locking eyes for half a second before we pulled our hands away. Shoving my hands in my back pockets, I turned my gaze forward again and kept walking as soon as he did.

"So, where are we going for dinner?" I asked, making small talk in as cheery and normal a voice as I could muster.

"I dunno," He shrugged, "Some place quick I hope, so I don't have to put up with your abuse for too long." His brazen grin returned and I let out a breath I hadn't been aware of holding, suddenly all smiles myself.

As we got closer to the three cars left to us, I was able to make out who was standing behind them. Mike hit my eyes first, giving me a quick wave before turning back to Bah who was talking to him and Pav. Grouped off beside them, Johnson stood laughing with O.C. and Silky. With Silky on Mark's offensive line and O.C. covering them defensively most of the time, it was easy to see why the three of them were comfortable around each other. I just hoped there wouldn't be any trouble with Pav and Bah tagging along, who were both from St. Paul. And then there was the fact that Mac would be with us too. Although if we needed to separate anyone, I would have _no_ problem keeping him distracted.

"Hey guys, we ready to get going?"

"Just waitin' on you." Rizzo threw a classic smirk my way and I stuck out my tongue in his direction.

"Well, I'm here now so let's go. I'm starving!"

Without further ado the boys shuffled to their respective cars, loudly shouting agreements of hunger as they did so. Mike and Pav jumped into Bah's car, backing out before I even had the chance to open my trunk so Mac could put my duffel down. Turning to try and get a word in with one of the other guys about where we were going, all I got was an eyeful of Mark Johnson's tail lights as he backed out as well with O.C. in the front and Silky waving like a dork from his rear window. Slamming my trunk closed, I frowned as they pulled away from us.

"Great." Deadpanning, I made my way over to the driver's side of my car.

"I'm glad I'm stuck with you too." Robbie chuckled. I'd almost forgotten he was with me at all, so frustrated was I with the guys for taking off without mentioning where to meet them. Laughing in spite of myself, I turned apologetically to the adorable boy beside me.

"That's not what I meant, sorry. I just have no idea where they sped off to and I still don't know my way around Minneapolis at all and…" I trailed off as Robbie just stared at me with obvious amusement.

"Gimme the keys." He held out his hand, still smiling.

"To _Shelby_? I don't think so."

"Shelby?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"My car." I clarified, as though it were obvious. "She…she's my baby."

Leaning back, his look got a little more serious and he bit his lower lip in mock concentration, curling it in the slightest bit as his brow furrowed. Swallowing, I decided not to let him know just how attractive it was when he did that.

"Yup, yup. I can see the resemblance." Standing up straight, he nodded. Again, he elicited a laugh from me and I reached forward to playfully hit his arm.

"Shut _up_."

"Give me the keys to your car and I will." I gave him another skeptical look and he sighed, "Look, I swear nothing is going to happen to Shelby, here. She's in very good hands."

It was my turn to sigh. I had worked my ass off all through college for this car and we had such a good relationship. If anything happened to her, I'd never be able to forgive myself. Sparing a long, unsure look towards Shelby, I turned my gaze back towards Mac. He was giving me the puppy dog eyes through the dark bangs again and it was working. I was helpless to protest any further. Taking a deep breath, I dropped my keys into the palm of his hand and made my way around to the passenger's side.

"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name…"- I began mumbling to myself as I buckled my seatbelt, crossing myself with my left hand.

"Cut it out!" He laughed, starting the engine and adjusting the rearview mirror. Smiling to myself, I cut the prayer short and watched as he put the car in gear, backing out swiftly and confidently. Everything seemed to be going perfectly fine as we pulled out of the lot, Mac stopping at the appropriate signs and checking both sides of the road. Then, all of a sudden, I was thrown to the left as he swung my car in the opposite direction, bulleting off towards the main road and running a yellow light to get us there.

"Ahh!" My voice shot up into falsetto as he threw us into the fast lane, beginning to weave through the traffic at a speed I couldn't be sure of, but one that was without a doubt illegal. "Are you crazy?! You're gunna get us killed! Or worse, pulled over!"

In spite of how angry I was trying to sound, all I could do was laugh as the adrenaline rush hit me full on. The city was passing by us on either side in a blur of bright, night life neon light. The breeze from my open windows created a deafening effect, blocking out any sounds until Mac shed a little laughter of his own.

"It's a good thing I'm driving, you definitely have some priority sorting to do."

"I'll put that on my list of things to do." I shouted back, "Right under running you over."

"I like an organized woman." He told me, glancing away from the road with a cheeky look on his face.

Shaking my head, I turned to look out the window, trying to hide my smirk. We had bypassed all traffic by now and Mac was whipping up and down the streets of Minneapolis like he owned the place. The speed actually felt really good as the whole car buzzed with power. The engine was on fire, excited to show off and do what it was designed for. The axles beneath me were rotating at an ungodly rate and it made the seats vibrate the slightest bit. It felt like he had taken control of much more than my car or the road, it was like both of us had control of the whole world and I was falling in love with that feeling.

Suddenly, we had come to a complete stop and I jerked forward a little from the inertia. I hadn't realized I had closed my eyes until I was opening them, Genovese's Pizza Parlor staring back at me.

"How did you know where to go?" I asked, a suspicious tone in my voice as I undid my seatbelt.

"Hard day with Ice Princess equals beer and pizza night." He shrugged as though it were obvious. Before I could respond, Mac honked my horn and I smirked when I realized the table at the window right in front of my car was filled with U.S. Olympic hockey players. As we got out of the car, they realized who it was and immediately threw their creative energy into all kinds of theatrics: making faces against the window, banging the glass, and dramatically waving us down. Laughing, we walked around to the front door together where Mac held the door, letting me in first. I couldn't help but smile as I thanked him, impressed by his manners.

"Now if we could only teach you to drive." I quipped as we walked towards the guys.

"Excuse me? I'm pretty sure it was my outstanding driving that got us here so quickly." He reminded me, handing me my keys back.

"Actually, I think it was the fact that you broke about five different laws that got us here so quickly." I corrected him as I shrugged out of my jacket to take a seat next to Johnson, Mac sitting down next to Bah and across from me.

"Quickly? You call that quickly? We were stahtin to think you guys weren't gunna show." Silky called down the table at us.

"Well, if you guys hadn't sped off and left us"- Before I got to state my argument however, Mac cut me off.

"If _you _hadn't hesitated to give me your _keys_." His voice was soft and playful as he looked me in the eyes.

"Obviously I was right to hesitate, you and your would be driving almost got us killed." I countered, borrowing the same tone of voice he had used.

"Oh, is _that_ what you guys were doing?" Bah asked, looking up from his menu.

"Yah…Why, what did you think we were doing?" I asked, confused. Rough male laughter filled the table in response.

"Don't worry," Silky smirked, "Nothin' we wouldn't approve of, eh boys?" More laughter ensued and I could feel my cheeks turning all kinds of red. Trying to keep my eyes down, I grabbed a menu from the middle of the table and opened it up in my lap. As my eyes rapidly scanned the words, they all seemed to blur together under the weight of my thoughts.

Did everyone really see something between me and Mac? Were they expecting something to happen between us?…No, there was no way. They were just being guys and I was just the only girl around. No need to freak out…Besides, that couldn't really happen, I mean Coach Brooks would probably have my ass…But still, there just seemed to be something in his smile every now and then…

"Nik? Nik. Hey, _Niki_!" Just as Mark's voice was permeating my thoughts and bringing me back to the real world, I felt a something soft smack me in the face. Furrowing my eyebrows, I looked over and saw a golden brown dinner roll bouncing to a stop a few inches from my place at the table. Glaring at the boy beside me, I gave him a confused look.

"What?"

He lifted a finger and pointed to the end of the table.

"The waitress has only been waiting to take your order for ten years."

"So you threw a _dinner roll _at me?" I turned my gaze back to him for a second, an incredulous look crossing it. A few of the guys chuckled, obviously amused at his choice of action.

"It worked." He shrugged, a cheeky smile plastered on his face. Rolling my eyes, I folded my menu and handed it to the waitress who was still waiting patiently with her pen and pad.

"Can I get a slice of cheese pizza with a chef salad, please? Ranch dressing. "

"Sure thing." Smiling she took my menu and walked off. As soon as she turned her back I grabbed the dinner roll Mark had thrown my way and chucked it, socking him right in the neck.

"Hey!" Shock and indignation took up every inch of his face. Priceless. My victory wasn't exactly long lived as, two seconds later, I got two ice cubes down the front of my red and blue striped rugby polo. My eyes went wide as the cold, slick pieces of ice began to melt in my bra. Every guy at the table was dying of laughter as I squealed, trying to get the ice out and shove the boy beside me at the same time, who had also lost himself in hysterics.

"You little jerk!" I howled. "I'm gunna kill you!"

"You tryin' to steal my day job?" All eyes shifted to the cool, amused voice strutting up behind me. Looking up, we were all surprised to find Taylor standing there, wrapped up in a dark orange trench coat, jeans and boots. Her hair was down, thick and gorgeous in the dim light of the pizza joint. The little bit of make up she wore highlighted her sharp features, that only ever inspired fear out on the ice. In here, dressed like one of us and getting pizza like any other normal person she actually gave off the impression of being human. All of the guys stared transfixed, wondering if this was really the same girl who seemed to take pleasure in torturing them every other weekday.

Taking advantage of their distraction, I quickly reached down my shirt and pulled out the two, half melted ice cubes therein. Glaring at them, then Mark for a moment, I set them down on my napkin before turning back to Taylor.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Trying to ignore the fact that the boys were still staring as though they'd never seen anything like her in their lives, I gave her a friendly smile and hoped I could make up for their rudeness.

"Just, ya know, gettin' a bite to eat. Today's practice left me starving." She smirked.

"Yah, you guys worked pretty hard today." I jumped in, trying to beat any of the guys to the chase before they voiced what I'm sure were less than polite thoughts.

"Always do." She beamed, obviously proud of her ethic with the boys. Out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed them all exchanging looks. "So what are y'all doin?"

"Just trying to wind down." I shrugged, "A little pizza, a little beer."

"A little food fighting." She tacked on at the end, a playful smirk in tow. A genuine chuckle left my lips and I nodded.

"Johnson started it." I told her, with all the maturity of a preschooler.

"Hey, I didn't have a choice. She was staring off into space and the poor waitress was just standing there. How was I supposed to resist?" Mark jumped in defensively, obviously still in 'Please don't make me do laps' mode. Taylor, picking up on this, just laughed.

"No need to explain yourself, Mark. What you do down Nikita's shirt is your own business." Despite their aversion to the so-called Ice Princess, low laughter rumbled around the table. "Just make sure it stays off my ice." She warned, pointing a finger at both of us. Across the table and down at the other end, I noticed Mike still staring at her. The same cautious ease that had come over the other boys was visible on his face, but his fingers betrayed his nerves as he busily tore apart and balled up bits of straw wrapper without even looking at them. Furrowing an eyebrow, I watched him with confusion. What was wrong with him? I was starting to think he didn't mind Taylor, but…

"Hey baby, aren't you gunna introduce me to your friends?" A guy with wide shoulders and sandy blonde hair sidled up beside the boys' least favorite coach, wrapping an arm around her waist and forcefully pinning her against his side. Her smile stayed in tact and she turned to kiss him quickly. In all my calculations and thoughts about Tay being feminist, gay or any number of other things that would make the season even harder for the guys, I'd never factored in the possibility of her being taken. It was hard to imagine a guy being able to handle her at all really.

"Sorry Stephen. These are the guys I work with."

"Even her?" Giving me a smile that was probably supposed to be friendly but merely made me want to shirk away, Stephen inquired about my presence.

"Oh, no this is Nikita. She's interning as a physical therapist for her last year at Northeastern. She helps the boys, the staff and me. So all around, she's pretty awesome." Giving me an adorable wink, Taylor introduced what we could all only assume was her boyfriend to the rest of the boys, going first down my side of the table and then Mac's. "And then, that's Mark, OC, and Pav. And on that side is Mac, Bah, Dave aaand," The look on her face seemed to soften even more, her smile widen even further, as she came to the last guy on her list, "Mike."

Lifting his hand in a very uncharacteriscally standoffish acknowledgement, Mike merely nodded, unable to smile. I would have been less surprised if he had jumped up to shake the guys hand before inviting him to take a seat among us, pouring him some beer and asking what it was like to be dating Hitler reincarnated, with a rack.

My eyes slid between them suspiciously. He wasn't the only one acting strange. Maybe she was just excited to show her boyfriend what she did at work, but the way Taylor's voice had rested on his name, almost like she was sighing…it was weird. Was I missing something here?

"Cool. Well, it's nice to meet you guys but we have to get going, right honey?" Again, Stephen forcefully pulled Taylor to him, this time taking a few steps backward. Her face fell and a pout pulled down the sides of her pretty mouth, confusion in her eyes.

"Baby," She forced a laugh, "We just got here, I'd really like to stay and chat with the boys a little…" The longer she spoke, the whiter Stephen's hand became on her waist as it clenched around her tiny figure. Swallowing whatever words she had left, Tay turned to us with an apologetic look on her face. "I'll see you guys Monday."

My own smile crumbled. It made me sick to hear that quiet tone of defeat acting as the structure for her words. All the respect I'd built up for her over the past two weeks seemed to buckle under it's own weight. Where was the girl who didn't take no for an answer? Where was the strong, invincible force of fury that got whatever she wanted? Who was this defeated mess standing in front of me?

Turning to glance at the guys for their reaction, I was surprised at the electricity that flowed mutually amongst them. I could feel their bristling anger as they watched this slime ball manipulate their coach's every action. Obviously they were even more upset than I was and I couldn't for the life of me understand why.

"Have a good weekend boys." Stephen waved to our group, guiding Taylor back towards the door. "Careful not to drink too much, huh?" With a slick wink, he was out the door, Ice Princess in tow.

Silently, I watched the boys, half afraid to speak with them so on edge and half curious to see what they would do. Moments passed as they all brooded and poured themselves more beer. Finally, OC spoke up, more worked up than any of them.

"God, can you believe that guy?" His accent seemed to wrap around his words even tighter than usual in the wake of his anger.

"Seriously man…" Bah shook his head, glancing in distaste at the door they'd walked out of.

"Who does he think he is?" Pav growled.

"What an ass." Silky agreed darkly. "He can't treat our coach like that."

As they all got our their frustrations, I felt something slide against my leg softly. Gasping almost inaudibly, I jerked my head to look across the table where Mac was giving me a look of concern. He nodded upwards in my direction, and I felt what I now realized was his sock clad foot caress my calf again.

"You okay?" His voice was low and soft as it drifted across the table, unnoticed between all the comments regarding our unexpected guests. There seemed to be genuine concern in his features and I only hesitated for a moment, sparing a glance to the door Taylor had been all but dragged out of before looking back into the beautiful eyes I'd come to adore.

"Yah, I'm just…" Taking a deep breath, I slowly let it out before continuing. "I'm just surprised at you guys is all. I thought you hated Taylor."

That caught their attention. The table's frustrated and chaotic atmosphere died down and they all turned to look at me. For a moment it seemed I'd reminded them of how they were "supposed" to be feeling. Overjoyed, satisfied, smug. Anything but defensive.

"I don't care how crazy she is, that clown doesn't deserve to be neah her and I sweah to God if I evah see him put his hands on her like that again…" Shaking his head, OC topped his beer mug off, trying to control himself. Beside him, Mike reached out a hand and patted his shoulder, glancing at me over the rim of his own mug as he took a long, hard drink. Anger seemed to be burning in his own dark eyes as he stayed silent. He'd been so lively and excited before, just like always…what had _happened_?

Shaking my own head, I glanced over at OC one more time, impressed by his shameless defense of the boys' so called Ice Princess. He must have felt me staring at him because he lifted his gaze, meeting mine with scary intensity. The lightning in his eyes sent a jolt straight through my body, jerking my stomach and burning my nerves. Every shred of emotion, every fiery strand of anger radiated from him without apology and I found myself overwhelmed. I'd never felt anything like that from anyone before in my life. Never seen anyone so willing to reach that level of raw honesty, not only with themselves but with the world around them. No matter how hard I searched my brain, no adjective seemed to do the phenomenon justice. But I knew I liked it.

Suddenly jerked from my thoughts, I felt Mac's foot graze my ankle gently.

"You sure you're okay?" He asked, misinterpreting the intense look I could now feel on my face as stress. My features melted into a small smile and I nodded.

"Yah, yah. I'm great." Around us, the boys began to steer their conversations on to less intense topics and I decided to do the same. "So, who taught you to drive and where can I find them?"

Flashing him a mischievous smile, I took a sip of my water. As he returned my grin, I could feel the tension at the table melt away and everything return to normal again. There was no need to remember the world even had problems until Monday. It was Friday night and we were young, together and had just enough money for pizza and beer. For the moment, life couldn't have tasted any sweeter.

* * *

So I just thought I'd mention something kind of funny. I wrote the driving scene before I saw Speedracer (which was so cool btw, go see it!!) (Unless ur epileptic...in which case avoid it at all costs) and then I'm on my way to see it and I'm like hey, Speed kinda looks like Mac...when he has his helmet on, ya know? So then I get in there and start watching and nearly lose it because lo and behold, he drives like him too. lol It was some good stuff. Anyways, thanks again to rejazz for reviewing. Hope you like this chap! I'm gunna work some more Rammer into the next one just for you buttercup ;) Ciao!  
-Rachel


	4. Gravity Calling

**Chapter Four: Gravity Calling**

"Friend, it's getting late, we should be going  
Oh, can you feel the gravity falling, calling us home?  
Oh, did you see the stars colliding? Shining just to show,  
We belong.  
Your telescope eyes see everything clearly  
My vision is blurred but I know what I heard  
Echoing all around.  
Well, I am tuning you in and you are deciphering me.  
Not such a mystery, not such a faint and far away sound."  
- _Deciphering Me _by Brooke Fraser

* * *

_Almost a month later, Monday _

It kept on like that for what felt like forever. Nearly half of my dinners were spent with the guys and we all seemed to get a lot closer because of it. Inside jokes were formed, stories were shared and our friendships seemed to solidify. Region, college team, family origins, gender. Every boundary seemed to fade into the background as, slowly, most of us began to trust one another. There was still plenty of room for growth however.

My mouth dropped open at the loud crack that filled the air when the two heavily padded bodies crashed into one another. Busy doing paperwork, I hadn't even seen the play that had just failed, only the heap of body parts it had left as carnage. A dark red uniform covered by a gray one lay on the ice and almost instantly my brain registered the two bodies. Rammer and Mac.

Slowly, Rammer lifted himself off of Rob, obviously aware that he'd caused some damage and trying to keep from causing any more.

"Ahh!" His lack of success probably would have gone unnoticed had it not caused a crippling moan of pain to sputter from Rob's mouth, echoing around the silent stadium. Everyone in the arena had stopped what they were doing as they watched the pair, wondering if the hit had been as bad it sounded. The fact that Rob remained on the ground, his face screwed up in pain as Rammer stood beside him, solidified our worries.

Sighing, Taylor skated over, obviously more out of obligation than anything. She was never happy when something halted her practice time and today she seemed to be even more on edge than usual. The guys were having a tough time getting organized defensively and she was going out of her mind, nitpicking and screaming almost nonstop. It was a wonder she hadn't lost her voice already.

Skating to a stop beside him, I saw the pain on his own face erase the anger from hers. For a moment, she was completely unsure of what to say. The moment didn't last long however as Doc scurried out over the ice to get a look at Mac.

"What happened?" He asked, kneeling beside the injured forward. For a moment no one said a word and a number of looks were exchanged. Finally, Rammer spoke up, recounting the events to explain.

"I was forced out of the left lane and came into Mac's unexpectedly. He was too close for me to stop. I'm pretty sure I got him in the left shoulder."

"Thank you Michael." Quickly nodding at the defensive player, he turned back to Mac, who was still grimacing on his back. I couldn't be sure but it looked as though his eyes were wet. From the sound I'd heard, I couldn't blame him. "Is that where you feel pain, in your shoulder?"

"Yah." Robbie nodded as Doc tried to help him sit up. "Ahh!" Every muscle on his face contorted in pain as he brought himself forward, screaming half way through the attempt.

I'm not sure how I held myself back. I remember standing there, in the player's box, pressed up against the wall with my cold fingers gripping the edge. The pounding of my heart in my chest was the slightest bit painful, tainted with adrenaline and fear. I remember I was barely breathing, scared that the noise would drown out any sounds being made on the ice. And all of my being wanted to leap out of the box and run out into the rink just to kneel beside him as well. But I knew I couldn't.

'_Doc needs space to be able to help him. It's your job to assist him, not get in his way. If he needs you, he'll let you know.'_

Swallowing, I glanced around the rink at the rest of the players as they stood just as frozen as the ice below them, before I sat back down and waited. Lifting him to his feet, which caused another grimace of pain from Mac (though he stayed admirably silent), Doc led him back towards the player's boxes and the rink exit. Without even having to be asked, I was up out of my seat and waiting rinkside within seconds. As they came towards me, I lifted out my hands to take his things (gloves, stick, etc.) before following them into the back.

Just being in the tiny medical wing of the locker rooms made me more at ease. I loved being rinkside but in there, I was truly in my element. Laying Mac's things on a chair in a corner, I hurried over to the examination table to help Doc take off the rest of his equipment. Too scared of hurting his shoulder even worse, I got down on my knees and began undoing his skates.

Normally, my dirty mind and I got along as it got me through many a boring situation. But at times like this it only served to make my cheeks look as though they'd just been freshly slapped. Rosy red invaded the skin on either side of my nose as blood burned up my neck and over my face. I was on my knees in front of Robbie McClanahan and undressing him. Could this get any weirder? Considering the kind of fantasies I'd been entertaining about him as of late, I really didn't think it could.

A hiss or two left his lips as Doc helped him out of his jersey and shoulder pads. As the spotless, white laces on his skates danced with my fingers I tried desperately to ignore the kinds of images the sounds he was making were bringing to life in my imagination. Trying to find something else to occupy myself with, I took his things over to the chair where I'd laid his equipment and folded it all neatly. Simultaneously, I listened as intently as I could to what was going on behind me on the examination table.

"Where does it hurt?" I heard Doc ask him.

"Up, up, over to the side, ahh, yah! Yah, right there!" Half of me wanted to dissolve into heart wrenching pity from the whimpering sound of his voice and the other part of me could think of nothing but the double sword his words provided. Suddenly, I was quite sure I knew how James Bond felt as he was tortured for information by foreign spy networks. If this wasn't torture, I didn't know what was. I did however, think I had an idea of what was wrong with him.

Before I could stop myself, I'd turned around walked back over to the table. However, I hadn't exactly been anticipating Rob to be sitting there in nothing but his dirty, white under shorts. For a moment I just stood there, frozen mid-step as my eyes adjusted to the rough contours and deep ravines his muscle had cut out his figure with. It wasn't like I'd never seen him with his shirt off, I worked as a physical therapist intern in his locker room for crying out loud. But still, this was different.

This time, all the other guys were out on the ice. This time, we had all the flirting and playful bonding of a month's worth of dinners together between us. This time, I couldn't deny in the least how much I wanted him.

Taking a deep breath, I completed my journey over to the examination table. Doc, who was standing slightly behind his patient's left shoulder, looked up at me with a solemn expression. There was a large bruise forming on the round of Mac's shoulder, beginning at the end of his collar bone and extending through to the triceps on that arm. From Doc's position, I could tell he what he thought this was: glenoid labrum damage.

Inside your shoulder is a fibrous ring of tissue which attaches to the rim of shoulder blade to the socket of your arm. By falling hard on this area, especially with your arm out like Mac's had been, you can easily damage the connective tissue that holds. It made sense…but judging from where his bruise was welting the most, I wasn't so sure that it was a correct diagnosis.

"I think the fall might have damaged his collar bone." I said softly, narrowing my eyes slightly as I inspected his bruise. At this point I was standing flush up against the table, trapped between the heat of his torso and the muscles in his right arm. Somehow, however, I was doing a very good job pushing both of these distractions out of my conscious and concentrating almost entirely on his shoulder. "I think it stretched his A-C."

Looking up once more at Doc for his opinion, I found him in deep thought as he continued to stare at Mac's shoulder. After a moment or two of seemingly searching the skin on the back of Robbie's body for an answer, he looked up at me and nodded, giving me the go ahead to start asking questions. For the first time during this whole process, I looked down into our patient's dark eyes. Despite the pain in his face, his eyes were strong and solid, showing no signs of struggle.

"You're A-C ligaments are what hold your collar bone in place." I explained, so he wouldn't feel out of the loop. "If I'm right in thinking you stretched them…this is going to hurt a lot."

Allowing a deep breath to enter his lungs, Rob gave me a nod.

"I trust you."

A small smile touched my lips.

"I'm glad." Giving him a nod of my own, I began. The first thing I had to do was find the joint the ligaments were attached too. My fingertips found his skin, bruised and slick with sweat, hesitantly at first. When he didn't show any outward signs of pain, I applied more pressure, knowing it would take more to properly diagnose his injury. Out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed his jaw set as he grit his teeth against the pain. In my chest I could feel my heart splintering under the weight of what I was doing to him. Taking a deep breath, I forced my fingers further along his shoulder.

"Can you feel anything?" Doc asked. In all honesty, I'd actually quite forgotten he was even in the room. The reminder was very welcome since it came with the assurance that I had very seasoned, very knowledgeable back up in case I screwed Mac up any worse than he already was.

"Yah," I nodded, glancing up at him over Mac's shoulder. "The ligaments are tender, starting to swell. I'm almost positive he's strained his A-C."

"What about the conoid and trapezoid ligaments? Are they in tact?" His voice was soft, Latvian accent curling around the words gently like smoke. Feeling further back, I had no choice but to apply more pressure to the dip of his collar bone to find his other ligaments.

"Aggh!" A low growl escaped Mac's lips as he threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, obviously suffering dizzying amounts of discomfort from the pressure I was applying.

"I'm sorry." The whisper was involuntary as it flew from my mouth. Slowly, I withdrew my fingertips from his skin, my features twisted with apology. He didn't move, his breathing heavy and ragged as he recovered from the sudden onslaught of pain. "I-I'll get some ice…"

With that I left Doc to find his other ligaments and diagnose their state. It was ridiculous of me to run from the situation and I hated that I was doing it…but I just couldn't stand to hurt him. And I knew that made me weak and insufficient and bad at my job. But the guilt over being a crappy intern didn't really help alleviate the weight that dragged my heart down into the depths of my stomach every time he flinched or winced at my touch.

"You're right. It's definitely the Acromioclavicular ligament. " Doc nodded as I came back over with a bag full of ice and a sling I'd pulled down from one of the cupboards. As I set the ice in place on his shoulder, he began fixing the sling onto Mac's arm, turning to him to explain what he needed to do. "You should probably take tomorrow off." Mac opened his mouth to protest but he was stopped before he could even get a word in. "I'll talk to Herb, it should be fine. Right now you need to rest. Wednesday you come into practice, we'll take a look and see how it's doing. I doubt you'll be able to do very much, but God knows I won't be able to keep you out of here for more than twenty-four hours, ah?" As Doc chuckled, the first smile I'd seen out of Mac all day lit up my eyes and I couldn't help but don a little smile of my own.

"Why don't I go get your street clothes and start helping you into those? Doc, I can clean up here if you need to go talk to Herb."

He turned to me with a curious look on his face.

"Are you sure? I know this is not easy for you, seeing them hurt this badly."

Smiling softly, I nodded.

"Really, I can handle it. It's my job, right?" A breathy laugh left my throat and he nodded in agreement.

"Okay, if you're sure I'm not going to fight you. Rest your arm Robert, keep it elevated, ah?"

"Absolutely." He smiled at our resident physician, waving him off. "Thanks."

Smiling to myself, I made my way into the locker rooms to search for Mac's stuff. If I remembered right, I had to walk left, across to the far wall and it'd be beside Verchota's gear. But I guess I'd remembered wrong because as I looked around, his name tag seemed to be missing in action. I glanced at the wall on either side of where I thought his things would be but found nothing.

'_Hmm, weird. Okay, I guess I'll just have to'-_

"Woah." Halfway through turning around to continue my search I ran smack into something hard and obviously very out of place. I really didn't remember there being a random support beam in the middle of the locker room. Taking a few steps back and blinking open my eyes I realized that was because there wasn't one. There was just Mac, obviously restless and roaming around.

"You're in the wrong corner." He smirked.

"Oh." Came my slick response. "Weren't you by Phil before? I could have sworn…"

"Coach let his first guy go on Friday and I moved over beside Coxy. Thought you were going crazy for a second, huh?" His smile let go of a soft, amused chuckle and I started to wonder if letting Doc leave me alone with this guy, half dressed and charming as ever, had been such a smart idea.

"Yah." Doing my best to smile, I nodded and crossed the room to Ralph Cox's gear, to the left of which sat Mac's. Naturally, he followed and I smirked as I unzipped his duffle, searching for street clothes. "You warmin' up to the Northeasterners huh?" I teased as I pulled out a maroon polo. The fact that he always wore collared shirts was something I'd noticed before we'd even started hanging out and I loved it. I came from preppy stock myself and the fact that we shared the same style seemed like just another sign that we would be good together.

"Just a few." He responded, donning a cheeky smirk as I helped him take off his sling. "Most of 'em kinda freak me out."

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow, holding up his forearm in place of the sling, as we worked the shirt over his head. Two could play this game. "You know, that's how I felt about people from Minnesota at first. But, I gave 'em a shot and they turned out to be kinda cool…for Midwesterners."

"Oh yah?" He asked, clearly amused as I pulled down his shirt. I wanted to respond but suddenly I couldn't. As my fingertips grazed the soft skin of his torso on their way down with his shirt, it felt like all the air had been swiped from my lungs. Swallowing, I tried to breathe, staring idiotically at his chest.

"Are you alright?"

Looking up I saw the same look of concern he always wore when I started to act like I was retarded. It seemed odd to me, not to mention grossly unfair, that he could remain so good looking even when frowning. My dumb look melted away as I shook my head back to earth.

"Yah, sorry. Um, I just realized you still haven't showered. And you're gunna have a hell of a time doing that all by yourself at home."

He cocked an eyebrow and the smirk that crossed his face this time couldn't be done justice by the word 'cheeky'.

"Not if I have help."

A laugh died in my nose, coming out sounding half like a snort and partly like choked amusement. The problem was, my body couldn't decide which I was more of at the moment: amused or disarmed. Because as funny as Mac was…God knows I wouldn't have been able to turn down a shower staring him and yours truly. Thankfully, he was chuckling as well, so I didn't look like as much of an idiot as I had room to. But trust me, I still felt like one.

"Was that line supposed to work?" I smirked, amazed that I could act so cool with the way my nerves were spazzing out under my skin.

"Only if you said yes." He shrugged. Rolling my eyes, I picked up his duffle and headed back towards the medical wing.

"I don't think it's fair to ask you to take off your sling and get out of your shirt again, so I think I'm going to have to give you a sponge bath…_with_ your clothes on." I tacked on at the end before he could say a word. We got him set up on the examination table once more and I went to grab a washcloth and some soap from one of the cupboards.

"So, practice didn't seem to be going too well today." I commented, making small talk to try and expel at least _some_ of the awkwardness.

"Yah, well. It's Coach Roberts, ya know? How well can things ever go?" He shrugged. Even though the boys still resented her for coming onto their ice after practice with Coach Brooks and making their lives a living hell, they had all begun calling her Coach Roberts. I had a hunch it had a lot to with the fact that that was all Rizzo ever called her and the boys tended to follow his lead.

"Are things really still that bad?" I asked over my shoulder, soaping up the washcloth I'd found with hot water. Rob was silent at first and I could tell he was giving the question genuine thought.

"It's not really her, ya know? It's like…we have to deal with Herb, which is bad enough. And we do ya know, we put up with it. We do all his crazy little drills, we run all his weird plays, and we do it without a word. And afterwards, we just want to crash, ya know? The last thing we want is a whole other practice, least of all coached by a girl. No offense." He explained, tacking on the last bit as an after thought, complete with a small smile. Donning one of my own, I nodded as I came over.

"She knows what she's doing, though." At this point I hesitated, damp cloth in hand, as I analyzed my options as far as where to stand. Within seconds it was pretty clear that if I wanted to do this right, I had to stand between his thighs.

"Do _you_ know what you're doing?" He asked playfully, cocking an eyebrow.

"Uh…" I hesitated, unsure of how to phrase my question. "I-yah. You don't mind if I, if I stand between your…" Motioning with my hands, I let them do the talking, for some reason completely unable to make the words come out. Normally this kind of stuff was no big deal. After all, this was what I wanted to do with my life, work with athletes in this kind of setting. I'd always been comfortable around other people's bodies. So why was I so frustratingly uncomfortable around Mac?

"Legs?" He finished my sentence for me. I could have kicked myself. "I dunno, why don't we try it and see what happens."

"Smart ass." I mumbled, catching the same smirk he threw my way as I stepped forward. Swallowing, I laid a hand on his upper thigh, trying to act nonchalant as I settled between his knees. "So far so good?"

Looking me in the eyes, he just nodded. Taking a deep breath, I nodded back and began lifting his shirt. Why hadn't I thought to do this before getting him dressed? _Why_? Why did my life insist on putting me in the most humiliating situations?

Both of us were silent for the first couple of moments as I gently rubbed circles into his very well defined abdominal muscles. I tried tapping into my medical side, recalling the anatomy of the stomach and quizzing myself on the names of the muscles, bones and joints that were all sitting precariously beneath his perfectly smooth, alabaster, now slick with soapy water skin. Obviously that didn't work for very long.

Clearing my throat, I opted to speak up.

"What was I saying before?"

"Apparently, Taylor knows what she's doing." He reminded me almost immediately. I had to wonder what he'd been thinking about this whole time. How weird this must have been for him, having someone else bathe him, a female someone else no less. God.

"Right, I was just saying don't you feel like you've gotten better at skating thanks to her?" My hands circled further now, quickly reaching his pectoral muscles. Underneath my own, I could feel my heartbeat heighten the slightest bit in pace and I sincerely hoped Robbie couldn't feel my pulse against his skin.

He gave a pathetic, one shouldered shrug and I tried very hard not to smile.

"Yah, I guess. Doesn't make me like practice any more, though."

Nodding in understanding, I paused.

"I'm going to have to get a little closer to you to get your back…is that okay?"

"Do whatever you need to." He shrugged, as cool with this arrangement as if he was giving _himself_ a bath. "I'm all yours."

Three things happened simultaneously at that moment.

1) I pressed myself up against his chest and reached around his back with my wash cloth.

2) Practice ended and the boys began walking in.

3) And my jaw dropped at Mac's words, although thankfully, no one saw this because my face was all but buried in his left shoulder.

The catcalls began immediately as our precarious position was on prominent display for absolutely everyone to see. Everyone consisting of twenty five hormonally charged 20-something year old guys, it was obvious that we were going to get more than teased. In fact, I had to wonder for a split second where the harassment filing paperwork could be found because I was sure I was going to need it.

Taking a deep breath, I began to back off of Mac and turn to face the boys.

"Now there's a definition of physical therapy I've never heard." _Of course_ O.C. just had to be the first one to get in a jab. Of course.

"Comfortable over there Mac?" Jimmy chuckled as he undid his goalie masked.

"Guys, it's not like that okay. I was just helping him get a sponge bath." As soon as the words left my mouth I wanted to strangle myself. A chorus of 'Ooo's and laughter berated me in response to the word bath.

"Hey, how bad to I have to get hurt to get _that_ kind of treatment?"

"Yah, we runnin' a spa here?"

"Where do I sign up?"

"Boys!" An icy female voice snapped. Immediately the laughter faded. "Unless you would all like slings to match Mac's, I suggest you keep your comments to yourself. Understood?"

Mac and I exchanged glances, snickering helplessly at Taylor's latest ground breaking entrance. Biting my lip until I was sure it was going to bleed, I had to turn my back to her as she walked in, pretending that I needed to wash off the cloth I was using under the tap, so I could have a chance at getting a hold of myself. Behind me, I heard her yank the curtain between the locker room and medical wing closed before she turned on her heel to face us.

"Guys, really. What is going on?" She murmured in a low voice the second she'd turned around. I gave her an incredulous look, Mac just chuckled.

"Nothing is going on, I swear! You wanna help me give Mac a bath?"

"What is he your pet Labrador? Why are you giving him a bath?"

"Maybe you missed the part where I fell during practice and am now wearing a sling?" Robbie spoke up, regarding his coach with mild amusement. Cocking an eyebrow at his tone of voice, Taylor snapped her wrist out so her hand was thrust towards me, palm up.

"Sure, I'll help you scrub his skin raw. Not a problem."

Chuckling to myself, I threw her my washcloth before grabbing another one for myself.

"If you could just get his arms for me, I need to go back over the soap and rinse it off."

"Can I ask why you decided to do this after you got his clothes on?" She asked, scrubbing circles into his left arm. Taking a deep breath, I did everything humanly possibly not to lose my cool.

"I've been asking myself the same question for a good fifteen minutes now."

"You've been scrubbing him down for fifteen minutes and all you got through was his torso? Damn Macky, I didn't know you were _that_ well endowed." She smirked, obviously happy with herself about that little jab. Over his shoulder I gave her wide, unbelieving eyes. Did she seriously just say that? Oh, kill me now.

"I just got distracted, okay?" I grumbled, going back over his abs with the wet washcloth in order to wipe off the residue the soap had left behind. Round two on the washboard wasn't so bad since I had company (not that she was any help…), but on the backburner of my thoughts I was still going out of my mind with lust.

"Chya, I bet you did." She smirked. Rolling my eyes, I just shook my head and laughed.

"Hey Coach Robahts…" One of the boys tentatively called from the locker room side of the curtain. After a month of training these boys she knew their voices by heart and responded immediately.

"Yes Silky, what can I do for you?" Her voice drawled in a bored, sarcastic tone.

"We can't really get to the showahs with the med wing blocked like this." he pointed out. I looked over at Taylor for a reaction but her face didn't change. Moving over to Mac's right arm, she shrugged.

"Guess you shouldn't have made fun of Mac while he took a bath. Karma's a bitch, ain't it boys?" As I busted out laughing, I couldn't help but think that I didn't care what Mac said. Crazy as she was, I loved this girl.

* * *

Aaand end. I really like the way this chapter turned out, I thought I did it pretty well, what about you? ;P Thannks again to rejazzz for reviewinggg! Oh, and just a random bit of information. So, I was thinking and I realized that Alaska doesn't have a team in the NHL and I was like...what is that all about? I mean if anything, they should have like one of the best teams around, right? So, I looked it up and apparently Alaska has its OWN hockey association hahaha, isn't that great? I got the biggest kick out of that. Plus, they have a decent women's hockey circuit, which I also thought was boss. Road trip to Anchorage!! haha  
-Rachel


	5. Aggrivated Frustrations

**Chapter Five: Aggrivated Frustrations**

"You keep on denying  
Who you are and how you're feelin'  
Baby, we're not buying,  
Hun, we saw you hit the ceiling  
Face it like a grown up  
When you gunna own up that you got it bad?  
Give up, give in, check the grin, you're in love"  
- I Won't Say (I'm In Love) from _Hercules_

_Four days later, Friday_

A deep sigh left my mouth as I watched Rizzo out on the ice. The boys were doing an intimidating looking set of drills today, the latest of which included starting backwards, crossover skating to the red line and then continuing to skate backwards to the far blue line down on their haunches with one leg stretched out in front of them. So far the only people able to successfully complete that trick were Johnson (but then, that was Magic for you, the kid was a hell of a skater) and, now, Rizzo. But I knew it had nothing to do with Mikey being a talented skater.

For the past month I'd had my hunches about his feelings for Taylor and for a month I'd just let it go. But after the last week, I couldn't help but be a little upset with him. Not only was he all but hitting on a girl who was already taken, but he had yet to mention anything to me about his more than obvious crush. And as much as I knew it was childish to take offense to that…I did. He was my best friend out here, what did he expect? That he could just pretend like we hadn't gone to high school together? Like we didn't tell each other everything? Like we hadn't pledged an oath in tenth grade to always have each other's backs? It just didn't work like that.

As he completed his drill and made his way around to the back of the line, my mind drifted to the conversation I'd overheard Monday evening. After helping Mac, I'd been pretty behind on the usual line of guys that queued up outside my door needing ice packs, muscle knots removed and any number of other small but important medical treatments. Consequently, I was pretty late cleaning up and didn't get finished until everyone else had left. Well…almost everyone.

As I went to walk out of the med wing, I stopped short of the curtain separating my work space from the locker room. It was still mostly pulled shut and I was hidden from view as a pair of familiar voices speaking in low tones hit my ears.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Mike? I'd thought he'd left half an hour ago. A slight pause kept me wondering who on earth he was talking to until-

"Yah, I'll be alright." A giggle followed her somber tone, "Stop looking at me like that, I swear Rizzo, I'm _fine_."

"I know you're my coach and everything, but I just want you to know that I'm here for you, we're_ all _here for you…if you need us."

"Yah." She snorted sarcastically, "Y'all sure act like it."

"Just because the boys don't wanna admit it, doesn't mean they don't care about you. I know they do."

"Really? And how's that Riz?" She drawled, clearly unbelieving.

"You don't hear them talkin' in the locker room after practice like I do. They want to impress you, ya know? They want to prove themselves as skaters to you because they care about what you think."

"And what about you, Mike? Do you care?" I couldn't tell what she was trying to convey with her tone of voice. All it really sounded like was her trying to push his buttons, see how long he could keep up this 'No, really. We like you.' bullshit that she obviously didn't want to buy into. But what she didn't realized was: he wasn't lying. I'd seen the same thing Mike was talking about. Small things the boys did, however few and far between, definitely signaled that they didn't blow their female coach off as easily as they wanted everyone to believe. Even if the guys didn't want to admit it, they liked having Taylor around and honestly, if they were given the choice? I'd be willing to bet money that they'd opt to keep her around.

"Yah." He responded quietly after a few moments. "I do. I-I mean we all do…the team and I. We just, I dunno, don't want to admit that a female figyah skatah's opinion mattahs to us that much..."

"Are you trying to convince me that I have a love/hate relationship with the team? Because really Mike, I'm pretty sure those require there to be love involved…at least part of the time."

"It's not that the boys hate you Tayla…they just get frustrated. You can't take it personal."

"Hitler with boobs sounds pretty personal to me." I could hear the faint, sad smile in Taylor's voice. A low chuckle came from Mike and I couldn't help but smirk. She had a very good point.

"You have to undahstand they just don't wanna be heah afta practice with Herb. They feel like they've paid they're dues and deserve to go home, ya know? They don't even want to see the reasoning behind staying and training with someone else."

"Especially if that someone else is a girl." She clarified in a quiet but clear, edgy voice.

"Well, yah that's part of it…" he admitted half-heartedly.

"That's most of it." Her correction was barely audible as she sighed. "I just wanna do my job. I was hired to train you guys…and I can't help but feeling we haven't gotten _anywhere_ in the last month."

"That's not true!" He protested. It was such a typical Rizzo reaction that I had to smile, however faintly. "This whole team has gotten better at skating and it's because of you. I never even thought to do half the things you ask of us and to realize that I can _do_ them? To grow every day as a skater because of you…I can't tell you how good that makes me feel."

"Yah, right." The smile was back in her words as she denied what he was trying to convince her of, "You've always been a good skater, Riz."

"That's just it Tayla…I haven't. I'm a decent hockey playa, but…let's be honest, I'm not anything to get excited about. Half the time I don't even know why I made the team…I'm pretty much just waitin' for Coach to cut me, ya know?"

"Aw, Mike, don't talk like that. Come on, what would this team be without you? A bunch of whiney brats, that's what. You've brought this team together. I don't know what it is, but something inside of you just brings people together. Every guy on this team listens to you, trusts you. The only reason I've been able to get them to do anything at all is because of you. So don't even try to sell yourself short to me, s'not gunna work."

He laughed softly, letting her words sink in.

"Well, I'll make you a deal. You promise not to get down on yaself, and I promise not to sell myself short."

"Haha, I dunno...you drive a pretty hard bargain Mr. Eruzione."

"Please," He joked, donning a salesman kind of voice, "Call me Mike."

Even though I couldn't see a thing, they're laughter echoed off the metal lockers and I could just picture them shaking on it. I have no idea what happened in the silence that followed, but it felt awkward. I wondered if they hadn't actually shook hands and gotten more than they'd bargained for emotionally when their skin touched. It wouldn't have surprised me, honestly.

"We should probably get goin'…" I heard Rizzo mumble, the sound of material rustling as he stood and swung his duffle bag over his shoulder following.

"Yah, yah it's late. Ugh, Stephen's gunna kill me." His company realized as she gathered her things as well, probably checking her watch. Checking my own, I was surprised to find it was nearing eight pm.

"Do you want some help taking your bag to your car?"

"Oh, it's okay. I don't think we're parked anywhere near each other, anyway."

"I don't mind." Mike insisted.

'_I just bet you don't.' _It was all I could do not to roll my eyes.

"Are you sure?" The skepticism in Taylor's voice was borderline amusing. I could tell she'd never met a guy as considerate as Mike and it was confusing her.

"I'm sure." He chuckled, "Here."

"Well…thanks. Let me get the door for you." She left a soft laugh of her own escape, hurrying over to open the door for him as he juggled two duffle bags.

"Thanks Coach." The smile was evident in his voice as it trailed off out the door. As they walked down the hall their voices became lost in the distance and the walls between us, but the laughter that followed them rang all too clear and that was evidence enough. If I'd had a hunch before, I was certain now. Those two had a thing for each other…they were just too deep in their own denial to admit it.

The harsh sound of Taylor's whistle sang through the air and I was shaken from my thoughts. Suddenly, I was back in the stands of the rink, bright lights all around. As I watched Taylor skate to a stop in front of the boys I realized it was time for me to stretch the boys out.

"I know today was rough, but I have to say I'm proud of everything we got done. You guys are really shaping up. We're nowhere near where we need to be, but we're getting there and that's all that matters. Have a good weekend boys, I'll see you Monday." She gave me a tired smile as she passed me on her way off the ice and I couldn't help but return it wholeheartedly. I'd never heard her compliment the boys on their progress like that and I was glad to see her rock hard exterior cracking a little. Maybe that talk with Rizzo had really gotten to her…

"Alright boys, time for lunges."

"I dunno if I'm ready for lunges…What about you Silky?" Verchota's voice hit my ears as I turned around and frowned. The melodrama was obvious in his tone and I was so not in the mood for their antics. They'd been giving me a hard time all week, ever since Monday. Taking a deep breath, I bent my right knee forward as I led them through lunges.

"I dunno man, I think I'm ready for a bath."

Gritting my teeth together, I felt my nostril's flare as I exhaled through my nose. Why did they have to be such jerks about this? Pulling my right leg in and stretching out the left, I knew the answer almost immediately: because they could. Because I was a girl and no one was going to stop them.

"I hear Russian baths are nice, maybe we should try one of them."

"I dunno about those Russian girls though man, they can be real teases."

There was no laughter from the guys that time. Slowly I stood up and turned to face them, feeling my heart rate rising and my breath growing shallow with anger. Looking between the fifty pairs of eyes all I got were serious, blank stares.

"If you guys have something to say, at least have the guts to say it to my face." Not one word was uttered as I stood there, shaking the slightest bit with rage. Finally, I just shook my head and walked off the ice. If no one wanted me there, if no one cared enough to say something in my defense, then fine. I'd just finish my day doing office work, no problem.

Empty of all thought as I stormed my way into the back, all that filled me up was the goal of locking myself in my office fueled by pure emotion. Anger, frustration, and hurt all flashed across my eyes and made them burn. Or maybe that was just a side effect of the tears that snuck up on me out of no where. Bursting into my office, I slammed the door shut and collapsed back against the front of my desk. As I sunk to the floor and wrapped my arms around my knees the sobs washed over me and I let them, beyond fighting after an entire week of slurs and jabs at my expense.

I hadn't done anything wrong. That was what hurt the most. For the life of me I couldn't understand how the boys justified treating me like this all of a sudden. I thought we were cool, I'd even ventured to think we were starting to become friends. In fact, when the jokes had first started I'd just rolled my eyes and laughed it off because I'd assumed they were treating me the way they would have treated any other guy caught in a situation as precarious as mine had been. They were just giving me a hard time to get a good laugh and then it'd all wash away like sandcastles at high tide the next day. But it didn't.

And now the teasing had expanded its territory. This was no longer about Mac and I, it was just about me. And whether the boys knew it or not they were treading on some very sensitive ice. Born Russian into a Cold War ridden America, I'd been dealing with racial slurs my entire life. People saw in me my ancestors, the Russian government and communism itself. They used me to sound off and feel better about things neither of us had control over.

When I was younger it only ever confused me because I didn't understand the full implications. I didn't understand that when people saw my name, their faces twisted with disgust because of everything the rough, Slavic sounds signaled to them. I didn't realize there was anything wrong with my father's language or where he came from. But the more people talked, the more I started to note the differences and the more confused I became.

For a long time I felt like I had to choose a side. Was I Russian or was I American? I could pass for both, other than the way my name looked. But a name can always be changed. And it was hard to tell because having been raised in the States, I loved what I considered my culture. In many ways I was _all_ American. Raised by a mother from New England with wealthy Irish roots, it was hard not to be.

After years of suffering my own internal Cold War with myself, I finally came to terms with the fact that I was a mixture of two cultures in one. Sometimes more one than the other, tipping back and forth on a seesaw that was inside of me. But I was never going to be completely one sided. I was both and it was beautiful and I was okay with it. But that didn't mean that everyone else saw it that way and it also didn't mean that the comments no longer cut deep.

By the time my eyes were clear enough and I was calm enough to look around me, I'd lost all track of time. God only knew how long it had been since I'd walked out on the boys. God only knew if they were changing or showering or already home. But I wasn't about to find out. I was going to lock my door and immerse myself in paper work until my mind was clear and I was too tired to let it get full again.

Taking a deep breath, I stood up to cross the room and shut the door (which was must have rebounded when I slammed it because, unbeknownst to me, it had been open this whole time by a good four or five inches). A very unattractive sniffle left my nose and I wiped at the paths my tears had carved out for themselves down my cheeks. I must have looked a right mess and for the first time since I'd stormed off the ice my mind turned to Mac, wondering what he'd thought of my reaction to their comments. I hadn't exactly acted mature…but what was I supposed to do? Just sit their and take it?

Sniffling again I groaned as I felt a sinus head ache begin to sneak up on me. Perfect. I shook my head and sighed, laying my hand on the faux wooden door to my office and placing enough weight on it to make it meet the door frame. My eyebrows furrowed with confusion when it didn't budge. In fact, it began moving back towards me and within seconds it became clear why.

'_You know God, when I said I was curious about his reaction, I didn't mean I actually wanted to find out. Here. Now.' _I grumbled heavenward in my mind.

He'd changed back into his street clothes by this time, a white polo with red and blue striping running across the chest over blue jeans. Part of me was tempted to continue to try and shut the door anyway, or at least tell him to go away and just leave me alone. As much as I liked him, he hadn't exactly stuck up for me out on the ice.

"Can I come in?" He asked, shoving his hands in his back pockets. I shrugged and stepped aside, trying to convey the message that he could do whatever he wanted, it really didn't matter. Once he was inside, I pushed the door away but neglected to close it on purpose. Lord only knows what kind of message _that_ would convey. "Look, the boys were really out of line today. I'm sorry about what they said, I…we all lit into them after you left."

I frowned and stepped forward.

"Why did it take me leaving for any of you to say something?" I asked, confusion and hurt evident in my features. He swallowed and looked away for a moment, obviously uncomfortable. Was he guilty? I'd only known him for two months, so I couldn't be sure. But it sort of looked like it.

"Honestly? We didn't know _what_ to say. Not to mention, I'm pretty sure my speaking up would only have made it worse."

"That's no excuse." I whispered, my throat reflexively contracting as my eyes began to burn again and suddenly there was a fresh coat of saltwater welling up under them. There was perhaps only a second delay between the surfacing of this new batch of tears and Robbie closing the space between us, coming forward to wrap his arms around my waist and shoulders.

"I know, and I'm sorry." His murmur was low in my ear as the tears rushed down my face. There weren't any sobs this time, only silent rivers that began on my lashes and ended on his polo. "I'm so sorry." He repeated, rocking me back and forth in his arms. Turning my head to lay on his chest, I folded my arms against his stomach and just let him hold me. No matter how upset or angry or stubborn I was feeling, this was much better than crying alone.

"I just don't understand what I did. I mean I thought Silky and I were cool, we have dinner almost every night. And then, I don't even know…"

Despite the situation, I could feel the slightest twitch of a chuckle make Robbie's stomach hiccup.

"I'm pretty sure it was catching you between my legs with your hand up my shirt that did it. I guess you'd forgotten." The smirk was strung throughout his words and I couldn't help but smile the slightest bit myself, even as I rolled my eyes.

"Guess it wasn't that memorable." I laughed softly.

"Oh, I see." I noticed that his smile had widened as he pulled back to look me in the eyes. "And what would have made it memorable?"

Giving him a mischievous look, I shrugged innocently.

"I dunno Mr. McClanahan, I really can't think of anything all that memorable about you at all." I told him, in one of the most obviously playful voices I'm sure either of us had ever heard. Of course, it was a complete lie. Everything about him was memorable. I went to sleep at night to the sound of his laugh echoing around in my ears. I woke up to the image of his brazen grin burned into the back of my eyelids. And ever since Monday it had been hard to breathe whenever I allowed the memory of his torso brushing my fingertips to resurface. No, there was nothing forgettable about Robbie McClanahan. Not even remotely.

"I guess we're gunna have to make some memories then." he murmured, leaning in. And for a moment I felt all the air disappear from my throat before-

"Hahahahaha! Ahhhh! Stop, stop!" The air came back in a sudden rush as I began gasping, desperate for oxygen as he tickled me mercilessly. Twisting the top half of my body in his arms, I tried to get away from him, but his strong arms kept me firmly in place. "Ma-ahahahaha! Mac! Hahahaha, pleeeease!" I begged him, struggling as he refused to let up, his lithe fingers seemingly everywhere at once and unstoppable.

"I'm sorry, does that tickle?" He laughed, continuing on with such force that I couldn't respond with words, only nod through the breathless laughter. Finally, a few moments later, he let up and allowed me to breathe. Panting and finally free of his arms, I collapsed against the front of my desk and inhaled as quickly as I could. My muscles felt weak and tingly, totally useless from his assault.

"Oh my God!" I gasped, getting the last aftershocks of laughter out of my system. Swallowing, I tipped my head back for a moment, still trying to breathe, before looking over at Robbie who was sitting in the chair in front of my desk with a smug look on his face, hands folded neatly in his lap. "You're a little too good at that."

"I try." He shrugged, before regarding me with a look slightly more serious. "Do you feel any better."

Realizing the answer, a smile melted over my face and I scooted back to sit on the edge of my desk as I nodded silently.

"Thank you."

"Anytime." He shrugged, "Besides, I owed you for Monday."

"You mean for embarrassing you?" My eyebrows lifted and I gave him a sarcastic look. A chuckle escaped his lips and his left sneaker came up to playfully bump my right calf.

"For takin' such good care of me." Smiling irresistibly, he stood and sauntered over to me as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Which is why I'd like to make it up to you tonight."

Breathing stopped and my pulse seemed to double in intensity. Did he just say that?

"Me and some of the boys are goin' out tonight. I was kinda hopin' you'd join us."

A deep frown cut through my features.

"You expect me to hang out with them? After what just happened? Try again Mac, s'not happening." Shaking my head in anger, I turned my gaze away from him but he had other plans. Chuckling, he lightly turned my face towards him by the chin.

"Hey, don't be like that. It's just Mikey, Johnson, Schniedes and OC. Everything'll be fine."

"No Silky…? Or Verchota?" I asked, skeptically. A small smirk pulled up the side of his face and shook his head 'no'.

"Not at all. I doubt they'd show up even if they were invited, Jack just about tore the skin from Davey's bones after you left."

A breathy laugh escaped my throat before I'd even known it had built up in my chest.

"Did he really?"

"Haha, yah. Threatened to give Silk a _blood_bath straight out of Boston if that was what he was after, asked him if he was feeling homesick. Johnson and I had to calm him down."

Relief injected with small traces of disappointment flooded my veins. I was glad no one had gotten hurt over something so stupid, as there was enough fighting on the team as it was. But part of me, a very small part, would have liked to see Jack take a punch or two to Davey's pretty-boy face.

"Look," I sighed, trying to ignore how convincing just being this close to Robbie was. "I have dinner with you guys almost every other night, I think it's better for me just to take a break. You know, clear my mind and see you guys at the gym tomorrow morning when I'm feeling a lot better about the whole situation."

"Who said anything about dinner?" He smirked.

"What? You did!" I laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder.

"I said we were going out. I said nothing about feeding you."

"Oh," Came my slick reply. "…Well, then where are we going?"

"Dancing."

My eyes lit up and I nearly leapt into his arms.

"Really?!" I hadn't been dancing since I'd moved out west to work for Coach Brooks. For a girl who'd spent at least three nights a week partying and clubbing back in Boston, it had been like starving. I was thrilled to be going out.

"Yah!" He laughed, amused at my reaction.

"I'm so excited Mac! Thank you!"

"I take this as a yes?"

"Definitely. What time do you wanna meet up?"

"I was hoping I could come pick you up around ten?

Blink. Blink.

"Uh…yah! Sounds great!" For some reason it was hard for me to imagine a guy picking me up to go out to a club. For years me and my girls just met up and walked together or took the subway together. How much sweeter could one guy get?

"What sounds great?" My head snapped up, nearly bumping into Mac's as I looked up to see who had just walked in. Thankfully, Mac stood up straight and took a step or two back just in time for me to watch Rizzo come to a stop in my office doorway. "I hope you two aren't planning Silky's death."

All three of us chuckled and I waved my best friend within a three-hundred mile radius over to stand beside Mac and myself.

"Not yet." I assured him, "Few more practices like today though and you just wait…" I growled, only half joking.

"Few moh practices like today and you won't have to, the rest of the guys'll take him out foh ya." He told me, an amused smile on his face.

"Yah, Robbie said the same thing." I couldn't help but grin. Did these boys actually care about me…?

"It's true." he shrugged, "Listen, I just wanted to make sure you're okay. I meant to come check on you right after you left but I was still in my geah and the boys were goin at it and," Another shrug fell from his shoulders as he looked down at his shuffling feet, "Yah…"

"Aww," My heart broke at the sight before me and I hopped down from my desk, wrapping my arms around him in as tight a hug a 21-year-old girl can manage with a very in-shape hockey player. "Thanks Mike, that means a lot. But Mac already took care of me." Rizzo cocked and eyebrow and I felt my brown eyes widen. "Not like that!" I assured him, receiving only a smug smile in response before Rizzo turned to Mac.

"So, ah we still goin' out tonight?"

"Yah," Robbie nodded, smiling out of the corner of his mouth. "I just asked Nikita to join us and she has so graciously accepted."

"That's great!" Mike replied, throwing me a smile of his own.

"Yah, I'm excited. So, is Taylor going?"

Robbie and Mike exchanged confused glances.

"Uh…is she supposed to be?"

"You didn't invite her?!" I all but screamed at Rizzo.

"She doesn't really hang out with us." He shrugged, wearing a look that told me he was thoroughly thrown off by my reaction. Grabbing him by the shoulders, I looked him square in the eyes and spoke as clearly as I could muster.

"Michael. It is beyond obvious that you have a crush on Taylor. So ask her out."

"I can't." He said, as though this were obvious, with a defeated look on his face as he eased my hands off his shoulders. "She has a boyfriend, you know that."

"You mean the controlling, S.O.B. that freaked out when he saw her talking to a table full of guys? Yah, I'm aware of him. I'm also aware of the fact that you'd be so much better for her than he is. Please go ask her."

Hesitant and scared, Mike looked to Mac for some kind of back up. A reason he shouldn't do what I as asking of him. Any excuse to just laugh me off and meet up with us later, date-free.

"I don't think you're gettin' outta this one." Robbie told him, offering him only a look that was all at once apologetic and amused. "It's pretty obvious that you like her, man."

Turning his gaze to look me square in the eyes, Rizzo sighed deeply.

"Alright, I'll go look for her."

"Hey, wait a minute! I didn't say you had to do this alone, silly. We'll come too, if you want." I offered, stopping him on the way out of my office with a hand on the shoulder. He shrugged and smiled.

"I guess it's the least you can do, right?"

"Exactly." I grinned, "Now come on, let's go find"-

"And if I _ever_ hear that you've been talking shit about Nikita again, I will mock up drills for y'all so hard they'll be named after you and feared for generations to come. Am I understood?" A menacingly low voice came from the small enclave that gave way to the men's and women's bathroom doors out in the hallway, about five feet in front of us. All Mike, Robbie or I could see so far was Dave Silk and Phil Verchota standing side-by-side and looking scared for their lives. It was all I could do to keep my laughter bottled in my chest as they nodded quickly and silently. "Good, now get out of here and pray I don't see you 'til Monday."

The pair took off down the opposite side of the hall so fast I'm positive they didn't even see me or the guys. From out of the enclave came none other than Taylor Roberts.

"Heil Hitler." I smirked, eyebrow cocked and hand on hip. The boys just stood beside me, silent and once again in awe of her. Noticing us, she broke out into a very large smile and rolled her eyes at my comment.

"How long have y'all been standing there?" She asked, her tone dry but her smile still quite at home on her face.

"Long enough for me to owe you a thanks." I answered softly. "That meant a lot, what you just did."

"No problem." She shrugged, "So what are you guys all still doing here?"

"Godancingwantcomewithus?"

Slowly all of us turned to stare oddly at Rizzo. What had happened to the calm, happy-go-lucky guy I knew and loved? Who was this crazy, lovestruck dork he became around Taylor Roberts? And what was I going to wear out with Robbie tonight? Hmm, all very trying and important quetions that would need to be answered soon.

"I'd love to." A bright smile bloomed over Taylor's face and I cocked an eyebrow. Not only was she assertive and a hell of a skater…but she also spoke Rizzonese. No wonder he was falling in love with her. Shaking my head and laughing, I hooked my arms under both of theirs and started walking towards the parking lot.

"Come on you two, we have trouble to cause."

* * *

Don't worry, Silky will redeem himself later. I love that boy too much to make him a jerk. Speaking of jerks...I've decided to withdraw my earlier decision concerning Mac. I've been reading _Boys of Winter_ (fabulous btw, highly recommended. thanks to rejazzz actually for her recomendation and her review of course lol) and it's obvious to me that Mac was never and will never be a jerk. There will be tensions though, and the same plans I had for OC will still happen so no worries! Hope you liked this chapter, hopefully I'll get the next one up within the next two weeks. Until then, happy reading!  
-Rachel

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